Day One: Windhorse in Kathmandu

I’m back in the world of the slowest dial-up and reminding myself that patience is the biggest tool in the traveler’s tool box. I’ve been in Kathmandu KTM)for 4 hours now and am taking my first foray into the luscious chaos that are KTM streets. Horns sound constantly, dogs, motorcycles, cars, trucks and people share the same road in a tenuous harmony. I have to remember to look both ways the other way since they drive on the left here-I weave up the sidewalk as if drunk trying to remember which way I’m supposed to pass other pedestrians…caught between my old and new world and having not fully left the old one and not truly in the new one.

My mind is slowed by 24 hours of travel and 8.45 hours of time zone change…it’s amazing what you can do in a jet plane. I’m taking it slow and easy-being gentle with myself in the time of massive transition. The flights were fine-got some sleep-read a full book-and time actually passed quickly. Some more folks from the group are coming in later today and I’m eager to meet them. There are 9 men and 2 other women-from all over the world.

Tomorrow I will venture over to Thamel-a part of KTM I know well and it will help to step on familiar ground…until then I will drink in the sights and sounds and car honks of my new neighbourhood. Soon, I will go on the hunt for my first meal here…back to the base of Maslow’s pyramid…

Just wanted to let you know I arrived here safe…more soon.
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Day Two: Namaste

I’m greeted ever other moment by namaste-now I KNOW that I am in Nepal. I greet that of god in you. How lovely to be greeted in such a way so frequently-perhaps the world would be different if we truly recognized that of god in each person.

I’m doing very well. I slept through the night and don’t feel particularly jet-lagged today. I feel like I’ve got my feet on the ground. My bike left on the truck today to Tibet…the excitement is building.

I’ve found my way to Thamel. It is where I spent most of my time living in KTM the last time I was here and it”s like coming home. The narrow streets lined with shop after shop and colors and sounds abound. The push of humanity through the streets is the lifeblood of the tourist existence here and touts compete for my attention on every corner. Offers for treks, clothes, shops, and rickshaw rides must be frequently and kindly turned down every few steps. I marveled at finding the rickshaw driver I rode with three years ago. I’ve promised him another ride when I return from Tibet-the last time he let Liz drive his rickshaw and I figure after 1000 kilometres of driving, I’ll be all set for my new career as a rickshaw driver.

I’ve met three folks from the trip…a woman from Calgary, her brother who lives in Thailand and a kiwi from New Zealand. The rest of the group arrives today. They seem like grand traveling companions thus far and we’ve had fun bargaining for taxi rides together thus far.

I already notice a difference in how I relate to the Buddhist iconography here-I’m am just struck by the Thanka paintings and now, rather than just being amazed at the artistry of the paintings, I’m moved by the actual images. Last year, I took a Buddhist class where we studied the Wheel of Life and today-I saw it in full living color on a Thanka. Tomorrow we will visit Boddhanath Stupa and I imagine, my newly minted Buddhist mind will be thrilled to drink in the center of Tibetan Buddhism here.

I hope to write one more time before I head to Tibet but I’m not sure if it will work out as my hotel is far from the tourist district-I’m sure I’ll find access in Lhasa though. Thanks to all who sent greetings.

I’m off to meet Raj-my trekking outfitter from last time-to see about possibilities for post bike trip treks.

I hope is well with you,

A big Nepali hug to you from Thamel,

TA
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Day Three: Windhorse Heading for Tibet

Hello All,

Yesterday I was in love with Kathmandu, today I am overwhlemed by her.

We spent the day touring four major sites and we were constantly barraged through the day by crowds and chaos. It was so excited to be back at the two major stupas in the valley and I was moved to tears often at the sense of coming home. Prayer flags were everywhere and signaled tomorrow’s departure to Tibet. We fly at 9:30 tomorrow morning and instantly lose two more hours when we touch down in Tibet.The airport is a three hour drive from Lhasa.

I purchased all of the prayer flags yesterday-it was quite a negotiation-Raj my trekking outfitter helped me sort through all the sizes and materials and the like. knew I was jet-lagged when I returned to the hotel and counted the number of strings I had purchased-I was aiming for 50 strings and managed to buy 95…good thing I like them so much. They are a huge pile and so I’m taking a representative of each kind with me to Tibet as I don’t have a big enough piece of luggage to hold them all-there are some logical challenges with this plan that I’m still sorting through.

I had dinner with Raj and his family last night-a Nepali meal through and through. He and I made a post biking trekking plan and spent the afternoon catching up on news.

Today we got caught in a Maoist rally in Patan. Fortunately, it remained peaceful and not much Nepali army was around. Our guide got us out of the area quickly. Tonight we have a Nepali Cultural program and packing for Tibet.

So I’ll write again from Tibet-until then…

TA
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Day Four: Windhorse in Lhasa

Hello Again,

A few glimpses of life in Lhasa today…we visited the Drepung Monestary in the morning. Drepung means grains of rice-the monastery is high on the hill and it’s many white buildings look like piles of rice. It is a very ancient monastery and it escapes much of the destruction of the Cultural Revolution. Some of the buildings were hundreds and hundreds of years old. The 5th Dalai Lama started the monestary. Todat 660 monks study there and tourists and pilgrims shuffle through the labyrinth of rooms, chapels, and meditation halls.

I had a fun moment with the camera when some Tibetan pilgrims wanted to pose with us. I took some pictures with the digital cameras and the men squealed with childlike delight when they saw the image of themselves. We listened to the monks chant before lunch and I cannot describe how the vibrations from their chants infused my being.

We had lunch at the restaurant sponsored by the Tibetan Mountaineering Association so dreams of high mountains sprouted along side the fried veggie noodles that were my lunch. I need to do some creative problem-solving tomorrow as the rental bike assigned to me is more suited to someone 6 foot 2 inces rather than my 5 foot 3 inch frame. Pedal blocks won’t quite do it. I suspect we’ll figure something out…

In the afternoon, we visited the interior of the Jokang Monestary-one of the many home places of the Dala Lamas…what a peaceful place. I was struck by the power of devotion as I watched the pilgrims prostrate before the various manisfestation of Buddhas throughout the temple. We did the inner circumambulation and spun 108 prayer wheels after seeing Barkor Square from the Roof.

Tonight, I continued in my “we really all eat the same thing” train of thought when I had “Bibo” otherwise known as Tibetan burritos. I finished off with some apple momos and all is well in the world. No power failure tonight so I could take in the market in it’s full color glory tonight-exploring the fruit and vegetable stands, butcher shops with fresh yak, and housewares of every sort and shape.

As my motto is life is short, things change…we will visit the Potala tomorrow morning. And the next day begin to ride…she says hopefully abandoning all hope of fruition…

Take care-much gratitude to you from the roof of the world for joining me here.

TA
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Day Five: Windhorse in Lhasa

Tashi Delek Once More,

Another large day here in Lhasa starting with the Potala. I suspect the Potala is one of the most recognizable buildings in the world. Today we toured a very small fraction of it-the Red Palace. It was truly hard to grasp how large the Potala was until we exited and imagined our inner route and saw how much we barely saw. They allow 200 people to enter at a time and you begin by climbing a long circular driveway to the back of the Palace. Once we reached the entrance gate, the ascent truly began with steep staircase after steep staircase until we emerged at the foot of the White Palace. There were three sets of stairs leading in-the middle steps are where the Dalai Lama would have entered and exited on-in his absence, the steps are covered in flowers.

The view from the Potala Palace was stunning and then we began a gradual clockwise descent into the Palace visiting rooms, chapels, and halls along the way. We saw the 14th Dalai Lama’s learning and sleeping room as well as his absentee throne. We also saw the Shrines to the many previous Dalai Lamas who are interned in the Palace. The Shrines could easily take your breath away as they were each covered in 3500 kg of gold leaf and contained over 10000 precious stones each. No one could give me an exact count but I think I must have seen over 10,000 images of Buddha in the Palace.

Although the corridors were filled with pilgrims and tourists, the Potala was an empty place. It seemed lacking in spirit and much of the time,it felt like a dusty old museum. I left it feeling overwhelmed, sad, amazed, moved and probably several other emotions. I feel a commitment once I return home to learn much more about the history of Tibet and the effects of the past 40 years. Across from the Potala is now a very fancy park with a huge monument celebrating the 40th anniversary of the “liberation of Tibet.” They razed several blocks of houses to create it.

In the afternoon, a few of us ventured to the Sera Monestary, very full of life. As we stepped into the monastery grounds, an unmistakable sound arose from a neighbouring courtyard. It sounds like a dull hum with rocks being thrown at other rocks. Or a large fight. Or computer generated music gone wild. It was none of these things. As we quickly found out, it was the monks of Sera having debate.

Under the shade of overhanging trees, about 100 monks were paired off. The one debating the affirmative was standing, the one debating the negative sitting on a cushion. The “affirmative” monk-usually quite animated, would make his point and slap his hands together in a move reminescient of kung fu. The “negative” monk would offer rebuttal-depending on the quality of the rebutal the yes man would gestulate wildly, mess the hair of his opponent or lob another intellectual foray. Now imagine the drama and excitement of 50 pairs of monks doing this at the same time…lovely, simply lovely…

We also were blessed by a monk at Sera while kneeling under the Buddha of Protection-a most auspicious send-off for tomorrow. Tonight I paid one last visit to the Kora around the Jokrang and was rewarded by a rainbow gleaming over the temple.

A new bike arrived for me today-one that fits-very exciting to be able to reach the pedals…tomorrow is a big day…we’re going 89 kilometres…in kinda of a funny way-we’re biking almost all the way back to the airport before we turn off onto the Friendship Highway. So please continue to keep me in your thoughts and prayers-we’ve got some elevation to gain in a few days and lots of road to cover. I feel ready to pedal hard to reach the first pass in 2 days and see prayer flags sending Windhorse into the sky.

Take good care. I think I might be able to find e-mail in 4 or 5 days but I’m not totally sure. You can check the web-site as well in case I can only get a phone update out…but please do not worry if you do not hear from me at all as it just may mean that no facilities exist.

Good-bye from Lhasa…catch you on the far side of some high mountain passes,

TA
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Day Six: Windhorse in Gyaste

Hello to All,

Out of the wilds of Tibet into a city-kinda an abrupt transition…where do I begin when the past four days seem as full as four months? First off, all is well. Aside from a very sore backside and a minor altitude headache, I’m doing quite well. My quads are full of lactic acid since we’ve climbed up and over three big passes in three days…

I digress…leaving Lhasa was perhaps the most dangerous part of the trip so far. We wove in and around and through traffic and made our way past the Potala and out of town. We cycled almost back to the airport and even through the new 2.5 kilometre tunnel. The first day was entirely on pavement but the 98 kilometres took their toll. We were treated to some lovely views of agricultural villages and met a French Canadian couple who’ve been biking for four months from Mongolia.

Day Two began with a bang…24 kilometers of uphill to the Kalo Pass at 4700 metres. It took much mind power to pedal all the way up-it was worth it as I was rewarded with spectacular views of one of Tibet’s most sacred lakes. It’s turquoise color was breathtaking. At the top, all of the tourists wanted to take pictures with me-being amazed that someone cycled to the top. A rapid descent brought me to lunch and a lovely afternoon’s cycle along the lake shore.

Day Three brought us our first dirt roads and took us up and over the Karo Pass-we weren’t supposed to cross the 5050 metre pass until today but some climbing expedition had our camp spot so up and over we went. It was a serious grunt and most in the group wanted to quit the whole trip-fortunately lunch was only 6 kilometres from the top and after lunch we all gutted it out and made it over. I did prostrations for a friend on the pass. The descent was wild with several kilometres of washboard road to shake my very core.

Today we crossed the Simi Pass-a 4300 metre steep pass then 40 kilometres of dirt road to Gyanste. We arrived sweaty and dirty and appreciating warm showers. Nights have been cold, day blistering hot…

I’ll write more tomorrow from Sigaste about the amazing sites and sounds of the Tibetan plateau-need to go find some dinner before dark.

I’ve thought of all of you often and you’ve helped me get over the first of 10 passes (as it turns out) and 265 kilometres thus far. The prayer flags on each pass have been windows to my soul.

More soon,

TA
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Day Seven: Windhorse in Shigatse

Tashi,

I’m another 100 kilometres down the road in Shigatse, Tibet’s second largest city. It was a big day in the saddle and I didn’t think my butt could get any sorer but i was wrong and tomorrow because of road construction, my butt gets to sit in the seat for another 160 kilometres. A Nietche moment: what doesn’t kill me, strengthens me.

I promised you a few glimpses of Tibet…from today…we road down a huge agricultural valley with the harvest going in full tilt. The wheat fields had been cut and stacks and stacks of cut grain stood in the fields. Huge thrashing parties abound with wheat being thrown into the air by pitchfork to separate it from the chaff. The valley floor is golden-as if the sun came down to lie in the fields for a nap. The valley is held in the arms of ocher mountains woven with taupe. The sky is brilliantly blue above.

The road is filled with every type of conveyance from horse drawn cart to bicycle to tractor-we can outpace all of them on our modern mountain bikes. Children run to the edge of the road to yell “hello” and to wave or exchange high fives with us. It’s as if we are in a parade each day.

Along with the harvest dance in the fields, dung is being put up for winter. Animal manure is mixed with straw and then plastered to fences and walls of homes to dry. It is used to heat and cook. I am struck by the hand prints left behind in the dung and wonder about the lives of those who made them. Bricks for home building are also made in the fields that have been cut as well as livestock grazing on the leftover plants in the fields.

We visited the Monastery of the Panchen Lama today and saw the world’s largest stupa. The statuary was beautiful once again and I have many questions for my Buddhist friends back home-I have so much to learn about this new path of mine. My body is very tired and I turn to my many Buddhist slogans and teachings to spur on both my body and mind.

The plateau is so beautiful and I’m struggling in my tired state to give justice with this brief description.

I’m out of touch now for some undetermined period of time. We might be at a place in two days that has e-mail access or not-not sure given our new route around the road construction…so I’ll be in touch when I can. Take care and thanks for coming along-you help me keep those pedals spinning.

With a hug as big as the Tibetan plateau,

TA
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Days Eight – Fifteen: 1150 Kilometres of Windhorse

Nameste from Kathmandu,

We arrived here yesterday afternoon and have been saying good-bye to group members ever since. Today has been a slow moving recovery day after 15 days of intense physical outlay. What a difference a few days makes…three days ago, I was camped at 4900 metres between two 5000 metre passes, feeling cold, exhausted, and like Tibet had kicked my ass. Now just a few days later, the hardships are already beginning to fade from memory-god, our brains are great!

Where to begin? I left you in Shigatse and now have to try to communicate about the past two weeks…where to start? What is most vivid to me is the amazing sensuality of coming down from the Tibetan plateau…as I alluded to above, life on the Tibetan plateau is tremendously difficult for Tibetans, for yaks, and for mountain bikers. We awoke each morning before dark in below freezing temperatures and if we began to cycle before the sun hit us, we had some serious windchill issues to contend with…as the sun came out, it initially warmed us and we worshiped the sol goddess, but as on Denali, the intense UV rays of high altitude soon caused us to call her the “death star” as she fried our skin and lips. Despite layers of sunscreen and lip stuff, I developed seven cold sores and lips that would glue themselves shut at night because of bleeding.

Once we left Shigatse, we said good bye to pavement until 10 kilometres after the Nepal border and the road surfaces ranged from pretty decent gravel roads to the most sorry excuses for dirt tracks through the mountains-rough, rocky, and like washboards, the kilometres took intense toil on both bodies and bikes…one pass was entirely under construction-we ended up calling it “Construction Pass” because it lingered in our minds as the worst/most punishing biking we did in Tibet. 38 kilometres of riding uphill through the most dusty, dirty, broken pieces of dirt road…gaining 1200 metres (3600 feet) of elevation to finally top out at 5200 metres…what a grunt…we wore white dust masks but they quickly turned the lovely shade of road and made breathing a suffocating experience since we were climbing the pass with 42% less oxygen available than at sea level…a true joy!!! Actually, reaching the top was a true joy and the resultant views of the Himalayas were stunning and worth everyone of the 10,000 pedal cranks to get there-even when I thought I might draw in half of the world through my nostrils by breathing so hard.

Hey, I promised you the sensuality of coming down-not the miseries of being up there… though one cannot truly understand the past few days without a deep grasp of essence of the plateau. Imagine your senses have a remote control…and by traveling to the Tibetan plateau-you’ve hit the mute button. You still have your senses but everything is dampened or muted. The color palette of the Tibet draws most strongly from the autumn family of ochers, tans, beiges, browns, and the most intense sky and water blues you can imagine. Other than blue, there are really no bright colors to be eye candy. The hills and mountains mix these tones in blankets and weaves that inspire the southwestern decorators within all of us.

There are not many sounds on the plateau save the intense wind, the grinding of tires on stones, and the bleating of livestock…as well as hundreds of children calling “hello.” No birds singing. No birds buzzing. Just the relentless rhythm of breath going in and out. Smells…not so many-our rancid bodies after hours of sweaty hard work, the sweet rotting aroma of dung composting on roads and fields, the spicy work of our cooks… tastes…a relatively limited menu of eggs, white breads, noodles, cauliflour, pastas- nothing of much color or interest-a source of fuel…sensations…cold wind biting at tender skin, dusty clogging every pore, sun waging war after the wind, the brutal chaffing of a bike saddle…multiple the above by 14 days and we all had plenty to deal with…I took it as a personal challenge to follow one of my Buddhist slogans for the entire trip “Always maintain a joyful mind,” and it worked pretty well…though I must admit to hitting the black sludge at the bottom of the exhaustion barrel a few times…

So, after climbing the last pass, we began the “World’s Longest Downhill”….we would eventually travel from 5050 metres to 550 metres over two days. The decent from the pass was wickedly fun…I’d been working during the entire trip to perfect my downhill washboard riding and the final pass was the final exam…I was ready…I rode down the 22 kilometres descent with 98% hands free-yes-you read that right, I rode down the vast majority of the pass with no hands on the handlebars…it was so amazing-I felt like I was flying-and would only have to put my hands on the bars to brake (hated doing that) and I found that my body took much less of a pounding on the washboards by just letting the bike find it’s way…

From the highest ups (on the way down) to the deepest despairs…after 13 days of very hard riding, we all expected the descent to be easy…expectations are so dangerous… after the flying descent, we hit a very gradual descent gradient (about 2%) and we were slammed by the most vicious cruel headwinds-we had to fight to go downhill-pedaling as hard to go downhill as we had the previous day to go uphill…”this isn’t fair,” we cried. The Plateau seldom is…we crawled and beat our way down for the next 40 kilometres bemoaning our fate over lunch.

After a quick visit to Miralepa’s Cave, we finally made it to Nyalam and the true thrilling descent could begin. After Nyalam, the road plunges 30 kilometres and 2000 metres down through the most magical gorge. The road is carved out of the sides of the gorge and waterfalls abound…we started slowly and gradually picked up speed. As we dropped, there began to be vegetation in greens, red, oranges-fall was just beginning to kiss the gorge…the trees and plants grew bigger and taller as we went down, down, down…we heard birds sing and insects buzz…the world and our senses were beginning to regain a sense of fuller life-it was like we were waking from the dead and every sensation was new. Then it began to rain and we delighted in the hightened aromas coming from all of the plants enveloping the road…forearm muscles began to scream at all the braking the road required but it was easy to ignore given the sensory delight at every turn and bend.

We slept at Zhangmu at 2400 metres and crossed into Nepal the next day. We dropped another 800 metres to the border before starting the roller coaster ride to Nepal. The palette was full again…reds, greens, blues, yellows-in both flora and people-it’s festival time in Nepal so everyone was taking baths and doing laundry-the countryside was twice the colorful place with such preparations-the temperature was delightfully warm but not too hot, the breeze a gentle kiss, and the slope allowed us to freewheel much of the way…life was easy, fun, and a true joy…both we and the Nepalis were in the most celebratory moods calling back and forth to each other as we zoomed through town after town…

We spent the night in the mountain village of Dulikhel and a most wonderful resort and celebrated the near finish of our 1150 kilometre journey-once again-the high altitude caused great beef and beer cravings in most and we joined the Nepalis in a huge party that night. Yesterday, we rode into and through Nepal- a most exaggerated running with the bulls experience that I’ll say more about soon…there are many stories from the journey left to share as well as the life/pilgrimage/windhorse/prayer flag lessons learned along the way but I’ve been going on for a bit now so I’ll close and try to write more again soon.

I’m in Kathmandu for the next two days if you’d like to write and then I’m going to head out trekking for a week in a Tibetan Buddhist area in the mountains surrounding Kathmandu called the Helumbu.

I thought of all of you often and you helped get me over the hardest parts-thanks for being there and I look forward to telling you more.

TA
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Windhorse Heading For Home

Hello to All,

Greetings from Kathmandu. Been back a few days from my Helumbu trek but have been fighting off a bit of belly trouble (read…couldn’t get too far from a bathroom). I’m on the mend now and will head out of Kathmandu tomorrow for one last small trek to a place called Namo Buddha-a stupa dedicated to the Buddha’s compassion because he allowed himself to be eaten by a Tiger there. Not sure I’m ready for that particular feat yet…

The trek…I’ve been waiting for days to start off with the following lines…

I met a Maoist. Six actually. They had umbrellas. They demanded a “donation.” I expressed some doubt that donation and demand should actually be allowed in the same sentence. Our guide bargained hard and reduced our donation by half to 500 rupees (about 10 CAD) and I was given a receipt. As it turns out, the receipt actually grants me membership in the Moaist party of Nepal. Fortunately, since there is currently a ceasefire, they were only carrying umbrellas. They hit us up with less than 1 kilometre left in our trek.

After meeting the Maoists, we spent our last night in a traditional Nepali guesthouse since the tourist one had closed down. Our guide traded his backpack for chef’s hat because the Nepali cook was too scared to cook for us. We caught the “Express” bus the next morning. Because it was an express, there were no chickens on board and we drove pass many, many folks along the way who would be getting on the local service.

They were “kind” enough to give us front row seats-it meant we got a full view of all precipices, road wash-outs, and rogue chickens along the way. The ride was mildly terrifying. I kept repeating a few Buddhist thoughts to comfort myself: “Death comes swiftly without warning-this body shall be a corpse” and “Today is a good day to die.” I threw in “it won’t hurt for long” when I contemplated the bus plunging off the road into the raging river below…and I hoped the driver was as attached to his life as I was to mine. He was…and we arrived safely after the 4.5 hour roller-coaster ride easily mistaken as a bus.

So the last two days of the trek were quite exciting…the first four days were lovely. We traversed ridge after ridge of luscious green vegetation-some natural, some terraced. The rice and millet is almost ready for harvest so the winter’s food hung in great bundles from the stalks. We traded Tibet’s subtle brown palette for Nepal’s gregacious green one. Some crops had begun to turn the color of midday light and some plants on the hillside betrayed the coming of autumn by turning rouge and plum.

After all the biking at high altitude, the trekking was quite easy-ranging from 4-6 hours per day and 10-16 kilometres per day. On our third day, we climbed to 3800 metres and spent a fun evening talking about Tibet with all the guides in the guesthouse. The meditative walking gave me lots of time and opportunity to reflect on my Tibet experience and given the responses of everyone who hears that we biked from Lhasa to Kathmandu, a greater appreciation of the physical accomplishment.

Our fourth day required that we drop 1800 metres and then gained 700 metres right back… a storm blew in and a kind sherpa family took us in and fed us milk tea and boiled potatoes while we waited out the rain. The next day we dropped another 1700 metres and so after dropping over 10,000 feet of elevation in two days, my quads wanted to go on strike.

We had lots of rain our last day so we hung out in a sherpa kitchen once more entertaining them with the antics of Pani Man (Greg-my trekking companion) and Momo Girl (me). Momos are small Tibetan dumplings-somewhat like pyrogies-that we dined on most days and that we attributed large powers to…imagine a new comic strip with two unlikely heros tying to save the world from within the small kingdom of Nepal and you might get some of the picture…

Given the continued deluge, we eventually had to force ourselves from the warmth of the kitchen and into the pouring rain. We procurred some large garbage bags in blue and green to protect us from the rain-I decided we looked like momos-since everyone on the trail was dressed in rain momos-I decided the whole thing was rather suggestive of Halloween.

Then we met the Moaists. They weren’t dressed like momos since they had umbrellas…

So, Tuesday I start flying home and I land in St. John’s on Wednesday afternoon on the flight from London. I look forward to seeing many of you soon and sharing more stories and adventures. I hope all is well with you.

Love,

TA